


On the Fire

by Nellosel



Category: Free!
Genre: I mean there is some swearing, IDK about the rating, putting it that way just in case
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-20
Updated: 2014-08-20
Packaged: 2018-02-14 01:03:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2172015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nellosel/pseuds/Nellosel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rehabilitation is hell. <br/>But when he sees Rin in the waiting hall afterwards, looking out-of-the-world stressed and worried, he feels as if a huge burden has been lifted off of his shoulders.<br/>After all, he finally knows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the Fire

**Author's Note:**

> So we finally know what we know. Nothing's completely verified as of yet, in the anime, but I just had... So... Many emotions about Sousuke's situation that I could not hold myself together, and had to write /something/. It just reminded so much of my situation, that I had to do it. This is essentially stirring off from canon, because we don't know if he had surgery or not - in this, he had, and is currently undergoing rehabilitation. I'm sorry if there are grammatical mistakes, OOC-ness, I'm sorry. I really am. But. I just had to. Title comes from this song: https://soundcloud.com/i_am_dgls/on-the-fire, because I was listening to it as I was writing.
> 
> Can be regarded as a prequel for my future fic with Sousuke.
> 
> [Okay this is all an ooc idiotic mess rn Imma edit this tomorrow. Basically half okay stuff half my feelings projected into the characters. Sowwy I just had to write and post it before I regret writing it. KAY BYE IM OUT SLEEPIN]

His hands were shaking.

He was sitting at the waiting hall, his legs twitching with anxiety. He clutched his hands together and put them on this knees, forcing them to a halt. He felt acid in his throat, making him choke a little; he felt his heart pounding against his ribcage so painfully that the sensation spread out onto his stomach and throat and head, and he felt like he was going to fall into a panic attack. He quickly grabbed onto his water bottle, drank a few mouthfuls, and concentrated on his breathing.

This wasn't the first time he has been to a hospital. This wasn't the first time he was sitting at rehab, waiting for his shoulder rehabilitation appointment. This wasn't the first time he was sitting there alone, crushing a bottle of water with his hands, trying to prevent panic taking him over. This wasn't the first time, oh no, not at all, and certainly not the last time.

He still felt as panicky as when he went to a specialist for the first time. He still felt as panicky as when he was waiting to be put under for surgery.

It just wasn't a thing that ceased to exist after a while, when one gets the hang of it.

Next to him, and elderly lady was sitting, resting one hand on her staff, looking ever so peaceful, while she held a book in her other hand. He wondered why he didn't bring something with him: term-closing exams were approaching anyways; but then he remembered that any time he tried to read while waiting, he ended up not focusing at all, and that just killed the purpose, really. He sighed and turned his attention back to managing his panic.

When he heard his name, he stood up and walked into the changing room. He took of his sweatshirt and T-shirt, put his belongings out into a basked, and with that in hand, he walked into the rehabilitation room.

Rehabilitation was horror. They began with the specialist examining his shoulder, massaging through the tissue to feel out the process of the healing: that was moderate pain. The specialist always asked where it hurts the most, and he couldn't decide whether it was hurting because it was in pain, or because the specialist was massaging the muscles and it created the painful sensation. He usually didn't answer, only grunted when the pain was really that bad. The specialist was used to this, though, he knew his reactions from the inside out, he didn't need words. This went on for a couple of minutes.

Then came the stretching.

God, that was the real hell of it. He wanted to scream, to beg him to stop. It felt so wrong, when he made his shoulder turn this way or that way, and pulled on his elbow. Of course, the specialist knew what to do, he would have never pulled on it too much, or pulled it to a wrong direction, but still. He bit his lips and didn't let a sound escape. Not here, not now. Maybe later, when he'll be in the toilet, trying to calm his breathing yet again. Maybe then. Not now.

He endured all of that. After a while, when the muscles started to warm up, it got better, durable. His mind blanked out, became numb to any sensation, so he just stared in front of himself, unfocused. The specialist did his job, taking notes from time to time.

As to finish up, he massaged a soothing cream into his shoulder that eased the pain. He sighed, when he felt it dissipate. His mind eased up, and his sight came to focus.

“Have you been swimming lately, Yamazaki-kun?” The specialist asked. He didn't answer. This wasn't even a question, this was him introducing the topic of why it was bad.

“We have talked about this,” the specialist continued, sighing, as he picked up his notebook and pen, and walked over to his desk. “Your shoulder is far from being healed, _if_ it is ever healed, that is. You were advised not to exercise your shoulders, yet the scar tissue largened since you were last here. Yamazaki-kun, look at me.” When he did so, the specialist sighed and turned the monitor of his computer on. “You leave me no choice. Know that this is for your own good. I am writing an official ban. You are forbidden to swim at least for the next two months.”

Time stopped moving for a little while. He felt as if his whole world came crushing down on him. His vision blackened out and his head started spinning. He felt his whole body going into a numb shock, his hands, cold and rigid to all sensation, his fingers cramping up, his heart pounding painfully, slowly against his ribcage.

This wasn't happening.

“I... I pro-promise, I promise I won't be swimming that much,” he stuttered out, his usual defense falling down. He was nothing more than a panicking teenager now. “I promise. Please don't ban me. Please.”

“I'm sorry, Yamazaki-kun,” the specialist said, as he was typing away on the computer, occasionally checking his notes. “This is truly for your own good. You have to let the scar heal. That won't happen if you overwork yourself all the time.”

“But,” he began, but had to let himself gasp for air. He couldn't let himself have a panic attack just now. A suddens splurge of adrenalin washed through his body, and he tried to seize it, so that he could sound angried than how he felt. “I came here, because they said you were the best in your field. You _promised_ my injury wouldn't threaten my swimming. You _promised_.” He was near-shouting by the end.

“That I did, Yamazaki-kun,” the specialist replied calmly. “But you forget that I also said you would need to take some time off, to tend to your scar, and you are clearly not doing as told, so you really leave me no choice here.” The printer jolted to life, pushing out a few pages. The specialist took them out, signed them and stamped them with his official stamp. He handed one paper to him, and then helped him get dressed. “I have also e-mailed a version to your school, so you can't pretend this is not happening. It's really irresponsible of them, letting you swim even though I have informed them of your condition, but that is now over. I will make you rest, even if it takes me to go to your principal and tell him personally.”

The specialist then opened the door and helped him outside.

“You will rest, Yamazaki-kun,” he said to him sternly. “I have also increased your visits. See you in a few days.”

With that, he walked back into his office, after he called out the name of his next patient, leaving him all alone on the corridor.

He wasn't really hearing anything. He wasn't sure if he were able to walk out of the hospital after this. He felt his head pounding, his heart beating painfully yet again, his hands shaking violently, his knees trembling under the pressure. He was ready to fall to his knees and never get up again.

He wouldn't be able to swim with Rin anymore.

And that was when he heard it.

“Sousuke!”

It was his voice. Sousuke looked up, and when he saw Rin stand up from a plastic chair, looking looking out-of-the-world stressed and worried, he felt as if a huge, huge burden has been lifted from his shoulders. He drew in a deep breath, and felt that it was easier for him to do so. Time was still moving in an odd way, but this was not at all as bad as earlier. He looked into Rin's eyes, and felt that it would be okay.

Rin ran up to him, but stopped right in front of him. His expression was to worried that Sousuke nearly laughed out loud. Rin lifted his hands and wanted to touch his shoulder, but drew it back immediately, as if he were afraid of hurting him just with a touch.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, his voice breaking over the last word. Sousuke couldn't help but to smile. It felt otherwordly, knowing that Rin knew. Sousuke didn't even care how he got to know, who told him; though it probably was Kisumi, they met the last time he was here. The only thing that mattered was that _Rin knew_. He wasn't alone with this anymore.

He tried so hard, and lasted for so long, but in the end, he just needed his friend's support.

“It does, a bit,” Sousuke admitted, scratching the back of his head with his right hand. Rin pulled his eyebrows together, and Sousuke could just sense that he was about to tell him off.

It didn't matter. Rin could shout as much as he wanted to. At least he knew.

“You dumbass!” Ah, there it was. “You could have told me! I wouldn't have put you in the damn relay team, if I had known! Fuck, I would have been there for you! God damn it, Sousuke! Fucking talk to me once in a while!”

“I don't know who didn't send me any letters from Australia, even though he should've,” Sousuke replied. It wasn't an insult at all, really: he felt entirely too happy to be sarcastic. 

“Oh, shut your mouth,” Rin barked at him, as he rushed over to a wending machine and put so many coins into it that he could have bought the entire selection. “This is nothing like that, you freaking idiot. Go sit down, I called for a taxi.”

“There's no need for a–” Sousuke began to talk, but when Rin looked over to him, his eyes gleaming with a murderous intent, he just shut up and sat down.

Rin bought him three, very sugary chocolate bars and a very sugary juice. When Sousuke looked at him questioningly, Rin just shrugged.

“You need sugar in your system,” he said. He sat down next to him, and watched him as Sousuke tore the packaging open and wolfed down the chocolate bars.

He didn't even need to ask.

“I...” It felt odd for him, that now he was free to talk about this. “I don't know what to say.”

“You could begin with telling my why you kept your injury a secret,” Rin suggested, as he leaned agains the back of the plastic chair.

Sousuke chuckled and crumpled up the packaging.

“I just wanted to swim with you,” he said. “The doctors said that even after the surgery scar healed, I wouldn't be able to move it as freely as before, so I panicked. I begged my parents to let me change schools, even though they were very worried and wanted me to drop out entirely for a year. I was really lucky, because the best shoulder specialist of the region is a doctor here right now, so my parents came to be more relaxed, knowing that I was in good hands. I switched the paperwork, so that's why they let me swim on the team. The specialist advised me to do so, too, because he believed that if I very slowly put pressure on the tissue, it would help. Of course, I overworked myself, and now I'm banned from swimming.”

“Ah,” Rin sighed. “I see.”

_That's it?_ That was all?

“W-what do you mean?” Sousuke asked.

“Nah, nothing,” Rin replied. “I mean, that's just that. You're out, for now. But don't even think that we won't be able to swim together, even again. If that's what it takes, I'm going to be so rich that I'll have a pool, and we can swim there. God damn it. Don't think that I'm abandoning you, not for a freaking second, you dumbass. I'll ask this specialist of yours to hand me exercise plans. We'll freaking watch out for you, idiot, and you'll heal your shoulder properly. Christ, what a mess.”

Even though Rin was telling him off, it felt so nice. All this time, all Sousuke wanted to do was to share this with Rin, but he just couldn't. He felt that Rin's dream to become an Olympic swimmer was much greater and needed his full support, so that he put his pain behind himself in order to help Rin. Turns out, he really shouldn't have done that, but that didn't matter anymore.

It felt so nice.

“I was really scared, Rin,” Sousuke mumbled to himself, clutching the water bottle he still had. Rin reached out and took the bottle out from his hands and grabbed them himself. He squeezed Sousuke's hands a little, just to reassure him that he was listening. “I was... So... Freaking... Scared. I really wanted to tell you, but then I just wanted to man up and do it myself, but... I just... I wanted you to know, all this time I wanted someone to know, to come with me here, to be here, that's all I wanted. I was an idiot.”

“Sure you were,” Rin said. “But that doesn't matter anymore, now, does it? I know now, I'm here, and I'm not leaving, that's just that. We'll do this. You'll heal, slowly, you'll get better, and yeah sure I'm going to be going off and swimming and winning awards, but hell that doesn't change the fact that I'm here. Hell, I'll win those awards for me and for you, too.”

Sousuke smiled and laid his head atop of Rin's shoulder.

It was all fine.

He knew now.

It was all going to be okay.

 


End file.
